Tuesday August 7 2012


☼ ○ ▬

With a group of friends visiting a cluttered house. It’s understood my room is upstairs and it is clean and organized, the opposite of the rest of this disastrous messy place. A black dog wanders around. It’s strange looking and resembles a platypus; in fact it’s even called a platypus. It’s body lies low to the floor. Its long bill really isn’t a bill but more like a long narrow snout with two mouths, one at the end of the snout and one further up where the eyes are located. There’s even another mouth on the butt end of his body. He takes a liking to me. I rub his back and head but find he also takes a liking to biting me. It doesn’t hurt and I actually find a satisfaction in it. My hand slips into the upper mouth and he nibbles, the teeth dull and his tongue wet and dripping with drool. I place my hand in the lower mouth, the teeth a little bit sharper but still no pain. Later in the evening I notice his snout resembles the tentacles of a cephalopod rather than a bill of a platypus. What a strange creature.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Plums. White Peach.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Lentil Potato Snack. Honey Oolong Tea.

Watching The Killing Kind (2001).


Catching up on writing.

Vanilla Almond Granola Bar. Coconut Water.

Suburban Living rehearsal in Norfolk – the last one before our show in New York.

Back home. I see a familiar face when I pull up in front of the house.

Me: “Elisa! You’re here! We thought you died.”

Elisa: “I kinda did.”

Inside I sit down at the card table with Elisa, Erica, and Kevin. Eating dinner.

Barbecue Garlic Salmon with Red Peppers, Green Peppers, Mushrooms, Onions, and Avocado Carrot Couscous.

Elisa explains why she’s been gone the past week or so. She’s been doing some “soul searching” and family-related issues are calling her back to San Diego. Most likely she’ll be moving back there in two months.


Meanwhile, there is a serious quarrel going on between Darren and Devon sparked from a debate at the bar they were at earlier. Eventually, Darren locks himself in his room and Devon continues to roam about downstairs. Out front Kevin and her smoke a cigarette. I join the conversation as Kevin regurgitates random bits of facts and information he’s read from books or seen from documentaries.


Later, while doing the dishes Devon uses me for a little girl talk and divulges into the ongoing debacle with Darren. Knowing my own version of him I try to be a mediator and help her understand the inner workings of his human behavior and why she feels invalidated in the relationship. I toast up some Apple Fritter Bread, spread some butter on it, and pour some Orange Juice. Sharing it with her at the table and continuing the discussion. It’s interesting to hear her side of the story, as I’ve never had one-on-one conversations with Devon. It’s always been from Darren’s eyes.

Retiring to my room.

Sleep at 4 a.m.

[i] Book cover.

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